


Abort, Retry, Ignore, Fail

by WandererRiha



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, F/M, Sadness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-22 01:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13753254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandererRiha/pseuds/WandererRiha
Summary: Luna just wants a chance to be ordinary.Of all people, she should have known that everything has its price.





	1. Abort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's over before it begins.

Feeling vaguely ill was nothing new to Princess Lunafreya of Tenebrae. Ever since the day she forged her covenant with Shiva, her health had been slowly yet steadily declining. Nothing obvious, nothing a lot of military men would ever notice, just little annoyances that continued to pile up. It had been a long time since she’d felt truly awake, when she wasn’t distantly aware of some minor ache. She’d forgotten what it was to be hungry, to feel rested, to know a moment’s peace. However, her discomfort mattered little in the face of what awaited the world should she fail her mission.

She might be Oracle, might be Princess, but she was still human, painfully so. If only she could lay aside her responsibilities to for a few minutes; to have the chance to simply be a young woman, just for an afternoon, for an evening. Moments stolen here and there were all she could allow herself. She should not indulge in such weakness, but if she didn’t she thought she might crumble and collapse under the sheer pressure. Weakness made her wander up and present herself without an introduction. Weakness made her seek him out, made her press for conversation, forced her to engage where she knew she shouldn’t. Later she would berate herself. How could she ask a man to betray his charge, his captain, his honor like that? Yet she hadn’t had to persuade him much. He’d come willingly, and while she might scold herself for giving in, it was the one bright memory she would carry with her concerning the false attempt at a treaty.

Returning to Tenebrae, to duty, to her brother felt right, but made her heavy with fatigue. She confessed as much to Ravus. He had changed- actually changed- and not just because he now sported a magiteck arm. She had been repulsed by it at first, but in losing his arm, he seemed to have regained some of his conscience, some of his heart, and she wondered if she had judged him too soon and too harshly? She would have liked to sit with him as they once had as children, and simply bask in each other’s company. However, Ravus was yet a prisoner, and they each had a duty to return to. In the morning, she must begin her pilgrimage, and Ravus must continue to serve a nation they both despised.

Despite her endless exhaustion, sleep did not come easy. Cuddling with Umbra and Pryna did not help. The vague discomfort had collected and concentrated in her belly, and it took her a moment to identify what it was. It had been ages, literally years since her cycle had dried up. It was yet another thing that had died in service to Shiva. Luna had sacrificed it gladly, it was one less thing to worry about, one form of suffering she would be spared. Or so she’d thought.

Shifting Pryna out of the way, Luna crawled out of bed. She stumbled to hands and knees, the room tilting strangely, before she made it to the bathroom. A wave of nausea swept over her, making her stomach clench. A bright splotch of red on her panties confirmed it. With a sigh, Luna leaned to fumble beneath the sink for a pad. The room somersaulted, and she grabbed at the counter for something solid to hold onto. Acid burned up her throat and she seized the trash can only just in time. Having been unable to eat dinner, she brought up only bile. However, her insides were not done with her. Every muscle in her abdomen was protesting loudly, forcing her to bend double, scarcely able to breathe. She tried to massage her midsection, tried to breathe through it, but the only thing that seemed to help was to bear down with all her might and push.

Something wasn’t right. Even her worst periods had never been this bad. Cold sweat beaded beneath her bangs, and she could feel herself shivering with pain and nausea. She should get help. Call for Gentiana. Something. But all she could manage was a weak cry of pain. Happily, Gentiana must have heard it, for a soft knock and her voice were audible on the other side of the bathroom door.

“Princess? Your Royal Highness, are you alright?”

“No,” Luna managed around too deep breaths. She could not manage any additional words. Gentiana opened the door and knelt down beside her. With one hand, she made warm, comforting circles on Lunafreya’s back.

“Shhhh,” she soothed. “The pain will pass.”

Strangely enough, it did. It took several minutes- what felt like years to Luna- but eventually the cramps eased off and Luna found herself able to sit upright. She still felt queasy, light-headed, and her entire body shivered with the aftershock of such intense pain. Exhausted, she was content to sit still while Gentiana fetched her a fresh pair of panties and pajama bottoms.

“Can you stand?” she asked, offering a hand just in case. Luna hauled herself to her feet, only to have the room somersault again. She clung to Gentiana instinctively, willing herself not to black out. Gentiana’s usually welcoming arms had become rigid.

“What is it?” Luna asked. Gentiana’s expression had gone ashen, and Luna turned to follow her gaze. Her diaphragm lurched and Luna pressed a hand over her mouth to keep from vomiting again.

Oh gods.

Everything abruptly went black.

\--

Luna awoke in bed wearing clean clothes. The windows were still dark, so she could not have been out for more than a few minutes. Gentiana had drawn a chair up to her bedside and sat watching her quietly.

“How do you feel?”

“Better,” Luna managed. It was true in so far as it went.

“Did you know?” Gentiana asked softly. Suddenly unable to speak, Luna shook her head.

Just one night. Just one time. Just a single moment of weakness to forget, to be a woman and not a princess, not the Oracle. Just a moment to be ordinary. A moment to be loved. And now...

Reaching, Gentiana took her hand and held it in both of hers. It was too much. Luna collapsed into her arms, sobbing. She had not cried for ages, not where soldiers could see or guards could hear. Now she cried for the childhood that had been stolen from her, for the mother taken too soon, for her brother tortured on her behalf, for the brave lover now dead, and their child who had not had the chance to live. She cried for herself, for the life she could never have, feeling selfish, but unable to stop the flow now that it had begun. Gentiana held her, rocked her, smoothed her hair until she had quieted.

“I’m sorry, child,” she whispered. “I forget what it is to suffer as a mortal. I’m sorry, so sorry, for what you must endure. This should not have been among your trials.”

Luna did not respond, too exhausted to do anything but lay in Gentiana’s arms. This was a trial of her own making. And given the choice, she would still make the same mistake again.


	2. Retry

She tells no one. Does not see a doctor. Gentiana frowned, but said nothing. It may be Noctis who was destined to give his life on the Lucian throne, but Lunafreya was no one’s fool. No one has said as much, but they all knew, just as she knows: no one expected her to survive this either.

Luna found she did not care.

With nothing of her own left to lose, she set out on her pilgrimage. The first few weeks are brutal. It didn’t help that her insides refused to behave. Her stomach and back muscles stubbornly refused to unclench, and she bled as if stabbed. She would have fainted on any number of occasions if not for Gentiana’s graceful interventions.

If anyone noticed- and she doesn’t think they did- they said nothing. The tabloids and news feeds did not comment on the permanent shadow under her eyes, the hollows beginning to pit her cheeks, or her gowns becoming loose on her narrowing body. If anything, they went to bewildering lengths to preserve her image. Each photograph was meticulously enhanced with inconsistent results.

The Altisian Morning Star had overdone her makeup, tinting her eyelids a curious shade of purple. Chocopress had gone so far as to fill her sunken cheeks, making her appear beestung. The Lucian Eye had eliminated her beauty mark and the bridge of her nose in their entirety. She rather took exception regarding her nose, but it was still amusing. She cut the photos out and pasted them in a notebook for Noctis with self-deprecating notes penned in the margins. She hoped he would get to look at them and laugh before it was all over.

She didn’t watch the news and critique her own performance. It no longer mattered. One quick glance was enough to assure her that she had not broken character for a second. Her disguise was artful and complete. She appeared beautiful, pure, serenely fearless, solid in the knowledge of who she is and what she must do. Inside...she felt hollow, empty, full of only blood and pain. Luna wondered if Gentiana suspected she was no longer fit to be Oracle. It wasn’t as if either of them had a choice. Luna was all there was to be had. If she couldn’t do this, no one else would.

Happily, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret was good at her job. Awakening the Six gave her purpose, a mission, something to focus on besides the sickening swirl of her own thoughts. Arguing with the gods was a challenge, but Luna was born to her role; a natural diplomat. The magic coursed through her; the only time she felt alive. She was grateful for the exhaustion and the blessedly empty sleep it brought.

She doesn’t tell Ravus. She thought about it, but remembered his arm. Ravus used to try to protect her when they were young. He cannot challenge a dead man to a duel over her discarded honor. What would such knowledge do but cause him more pain? Twisted by Nifleheim’s machinations, he had enough to worry about without her adding to his burdens.

Although she could not have said why, Luna suspected from the moment she arrived that Altisia would be her last top. Her pilgrimage would end here. She would go no further.

She was only mildly surprised when Chancellor Izunia stabed her. The man had always made her skin crawl. She’d been expecting a knife in her back for some time. Except he didn’t stab her in the back, or even through the heart. He’d shoved the dagger into her middle. She had time before he jerked it out to give him a puzzled, inquiring look. Did he know? Did he suspect? Or was this an attempt to put an end to any future Oracles and Kings of Lucii on the off chance she were to survive this? His hyena’s smile as he yanks the blade free told her nothing.

The city was in ruins, Leviathan was raging, Titan- bless him- wasn’t really helping, and Noct was out cold. _Men_ , she huffed to herself. Crawling over to him wasn’t easy; not because it hurt, but because of necessary muscles now severed and useless. The front of her white gown was soaked in crimson, but she paid it no mind. She put the ring in Noctis’ hands, heals healed injuries, and bid him goodbye.

She was ready. Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Oracle of Tenebrae, laid down and breathed her last.


	3. Ignore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out of sight, out of mind.

Luna would have been happy to continue in blessed oblivion. Perhaps, if she had to experience something, she might be reunited with Nyx and their lost child. No such luck. She woke on the marble floor of a vast hall. It didn’t seem to have walls, though there was the vague suggestion of a ceiling. It was dark and light all at once, as if someone had shaken the sky and set the stars jangling. Footsteps echoed on the hard floor.

“Luna! My dear, what are you doing here?”

Luna looked up, dazed, disoriented. Her gown was still stained but she could tell she had stopped bleeding. “...King Regis?”

She was dead, then. But how…? Why…? She looked around and noticed other ghostly shapes milling about and talking to one another, as if at some posthumous gala ball. King Regis knelt down and gathered her close. She leaned against him gratefully. It had been an extremely trying decade.

“I knew Noctis was doomed,” the king murmured, voice quavering, “but I had hoped you might be spared.”

Spared. Spared to live long enough for herself and Noctis to marry. Spared so that she might continue to Tenebraen and Lucian lines. Spared so that she might raise a child on her own, twice widowed though none would ever know it.

“Where are we?” she asked, if only to stop her own swirling thoughts.

“In the halls of the dead,” Regis answered, “among my ancestors. Everyone here was once a king of Lucis.”

The perplexed expression had not left his face and Luna thought she knew why. She was not Lucian, not even in an extremely-distant-cousin sort of way. What could have pulled her into the Armiger-- Wait.

“The trident,” she said, revelation ringing in her words. She had bequeathed it Nocits to aid him in her absence. Part of her magic, her soul was tied to it, which might explain why she had ended up here. Regis nodded slowly.

“That could be,” he agreed. Standing, he helped her to her feet, eyeing the crimson stain on her gown but saying nothing.

“Izuna,” Luna said simply.

Regis grimaced. “I’m so sorry, my dear.”

Luna shook her head. She didn’t care. All she really wanted was to rest, to close her eyes and disappear into darkness. Why couldn’t she have that, if she could not have her family? Although she was fond of King Regis, she would have much preferred to see her mother, father, and of course Nyx, to say nothing of their baby. Instead, here she was, trapped. One woman among all the kings of the last few centuries. It was just her luck.

“You must be tired,” Regis said, putting a hand behind her back and guiding her off to one side. She hadn’t noticed until then that there were chairs and sofas edging the perimeter of the marble floor. Time and Space rushed up just beyond; cosmic wallpaper of a room without boundaries. An old fashioned divan with a single curling arm, plush velvet upholstery, and a soft-looking cushion stood waiting seemingly just for her. Luna sank down onto it, hugging the cushion against her cheek.

“Rest,” Regis told her gently, draping a throw over her that she had not noticed before. “You’ve more than earned it. I’ll wake you if anything important happens.”

“Is that likely?” she yawned.

Regis shook his head. “No. There is nothing with which we need concern ourselves now.”

Taking him at his word, Luna closed her eyes and slept.


End file.
